


The Hate List

by bethelson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little angst, A night out in Paris, Betrayal, Chaperones, Dictator Hermione, Draco Has a List, Draco Makes a Deal, Draco's just there, Dramione Romcom Fest, F/M, Fluff, Getting through that redemption, Healing, Hogwarts has a senior trip, Humor, Inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You (1999), Post Hogwarts, Romantic Comedy, dramione - Freeform, sort of enemies to lovers, those late night talks that go on and on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethelson/pseuds/bethelson
Summary: While chaperoning the post graduation trip, Hermione and Draco find themselves wandering the streets of Paris in the middle of the night, fruitlessly searching for the seventh years they were supposed to be in charge of.What Hermione doesn’t know, is that those seventh years struck a bargain with Draco to keep her occupied so they could sneak out for a last hurrah before they all head back to London. So in his efforts to derail her search, he convinces her to join him in their own night of frivolity.As they paint the city red, they slowly learn to let their guards down, and find that putting the past behind them allows them to finally focus on the present.___My contribution to the Dramione RomCom Fest!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19
Collections: Dramione RomCom Fest





	The Hate List

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneRomComFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> _10 Things I Hate About You (1999)_
> 
> **...**
> 
>   
> I had the honor of being in this fest and it has been a blast. Please if you have a moment, go give all the other works some love and attention. I've been watching these artists give so much time and dedication to their writing and art this last month, and they deserve every bit of it.
> 
> I want to also mention that I will be posting the rest of the chapters a day apart, consecutively once they are all complete, so keep an eye out for that. For now, I just completed the requirement for the fest to post in time.
> 
> I would like to thank QuinTalon and NuclearNik for putting this fest together and being all around lovely.
> 
> And of course a huge shout out to pandora_rose_xo and ForevermoreNevermore for their alpha/beta work and listening to my ramblings!
> 
> **\---.oOo.---**  
> 

It took Draco less than three seconds to realize his signature sneer did not in fact phase the two seventh years currently pestering him, but that didn’t make him stop giving them one. The taller boy, a raven haired Ravenclaw with glasses the size of tea cups and large teeth, was obviously the moral support to the shorter, more rambunctious and heavily accented Hufflepuff standing beside him currently begging for favours.

“Not my problem,” Draco told them, firm and simple, and flicked the newspaper in his hands in a fashion which he hoped conveyed that he was done with the conversation.

“Please, Malfoy, we’re beggin’ you,” the Hufflepuff whined, and was brazen enough to reach out and lower the paper from Draco’s view. “Granger’s mental. She’ll never let us leave-”

“That’s a touching story. But again, not my problem.”

“Malfoy.”

“What part of-”

“We only have two days left,” the Ravenclaw tried, and Draco sighed dramatically, swiftly folding up his paper to toss onto the chair beside him.

“What exactly are you wanting from me?” he conceded. If it made them go away faster, he would hear them out. The two exchanged excited smiles like they’d finally won.

“Distract Granger fer a few hours.” Draco scowled, and the Hufflepuff held up a hand. “Just fer a little while. Anything to keep her occupied so we can all sneak out for a bit.”

“And how in Merlin’s name do you expect me to accomplish this?” he asked them, still not fully humouring their pathetic idea.

“You’re a lad, and she’s a pretty lass. I’m sure you can figure somethin’ out,” the brazen Hufflepuff shrugged. Draco felt his face flame at the insinuation, and had to hold himself back from throttling the boy. The Ravenclaw was obviously used to his friend’s lack of manners and quickly intervened.

“What he’s trying to say is, you know her better than the rest of us. She’ll trust you. Just hang out with her or do something she’ll like,” he tried and Draco almost wanted to laugh.

“I don’t think you’re familiar with your history, mates. Granger and I don’t just ‘hang out.’ Besides, wouldn’t Weasley be a better fit for this?” The look on both of their faces answered that question, and he leveled them with an annoyed expression. “I see. She’s going with you, then?”

The two friends shared a sidelong glance. It was obvious that they wanted to keep the details of their little adventure quiet, but Draco could tell they were getting desperate to make it work. It would seem that Granger and her strict, draconian style of chaperoning was a hurdle they were having trouble getting over. Watching them, he did a mental check on what he knew of the two. Perhaps if they wanted it bad enough, this would be an opportunity worth seizing.

“Quincy, correct?” The Ravenclaw stood up straighter at being addressed and nodded. “I happen to know your father is on the International Confederation.” Quincy gave a slow nod, not entirely following. “I also happen to know that he has his hands in the pockets of some of the top apothecaries in Britain and Germany. I would love to sit down with him and… have a chat.”

Draco let the sound of the ‘t’ tick for emphasis, and allowed his proposition to linger between them all for a moment.

“I’m not sure if my dad would be up to speaking with your family privately after… everything,” he nervously replied and pushed his large glasses up his nose.

Draco leaned back in his seat, draped one leg over the other, and looked the Ravenclaw in the eye, a technique he adopted from his father’s way of dealing business. “Not my family. Just me. If you get me time to negotiate formally with your father, I will keep Granger occupied so you can go gallivanting throughout the streets of Paris in the middle of the night.”

Quincy’s magnified eyes gave Draco a once over, seemingly calculating the proposition, but Draco kept his expression indifferent. The Hufflepuff, having lost his patience, shoved his friend to prompt an answer, and Quincy finally sagged his shoulders in defeat.

“Fine,” he conceded, but then stood up straighter and gathered a little bit more nerve. “But if we get caught before we get back, the deal’s off.”

Draco smirked, pleased at how well this turned out for him, and gave a little salute in the affirmative as the Hufflepuff began to drag his friend from the room before Draco changed his mind.

“Pleasure doing business, mates. Hope your night out is well worth it. And do try not to get too wasted.”

**.oOo.**

Hermione had just wrapped up her evening meeting with the Ministry Officials and was now heading for the Floo, ready to get comfy with a good book and some hot tea before bed. It had been a long day at the French Ministry, and the group of seventh years she was in charge of were rowdier than usual. Even Ginny seemed distracted when she was usually always on task and focused. Of course, it didn’t help in the least that her _partner_ still refused to even pull his weight more than the bare minimum.

Two weeks in France on a post Hogwarts internship trip, and the only other chaperone just had to be Draco Malfoy. At first she was a little wary when she learned that he would be on the trip as well. He had spent the entirety of their redo year quiet and aloof. He never interacted with anyone unless he had to, and hardly participated in class, and any time she had to cross paths with him, he kept their exchanges short and to the point. He wasn’t anything like the Malfoy she was used to, and no longer knew what to expect from him.

And upon arriving in France, it became apparent pretty early on that he wasn’t going to be putting in any effort into their chaperone duties more than was required of him. He refused responsibility. And wouldn’t communicate. He wouldn’t inform her if anything changed and he never gave her a clear answer if she asked him a question. He would coerce the seventh years into taking on his assignments on top of their own, as well as skive the morning _and_ evening duties altogether. He didn’t even attend the follow up meetings with her like he was supposed to. It was all so infuriating and confusing to her. It’s like he _wanted_ to seem like the most unreliable person in the world.

Dealing with this new version of Malfoy was like some new dance no one taught her the footwork to. It was maddening, and she didn’t have the faintest idea why he even came in the first place.

Coming through the fireplace in the dining room, she was immediately met with a ruckus. The table had not yet been cleared and still had an assortment of desserts all about. Several of the seventh years were in an intense debate over the Quidditch bracket for that year’s World Cup, and it seemed to be exacerbated by the amounts of sugar they had likely indulged on. Wanting nothing to do with that, she quickly continued on her way.

Opening the door to her shared room, she found Ginny perched crisscross on her bed, already in her night clothes and in the middle of shaking her braided hair loose. The girl looked up as Hermione entered and smiled.

“There you are,” she said, but Hermione squinted and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

“Is that your doing?” she accused, and the ginger’s smile broadened into a full out grin.

“I admit nothing,” she told her, and Hermione threw a skeptical look Ginny’s way as she crossed the room. “And it’s not my fault Piper gets so heated over the Kestrels. Also, what took ya?”

Hermione let out a long sigh as she removed her jacket and tossed it and her bag onto her own bed.

“The final meet up with the Officials. They wanted to go over tomorrow’s plans and confirm the time for when the carriage will depart. And of course, _someone_ decided he was too good to make an appearance so it took a little longer than usual.” Ginny hummed in response, already familiar with Malfoy’s laziness. She then moved to stretch out across her bed on her stomach, her now freed hair tumbling about in soft red waves as she flipped through an old copy of _Witch Weekly_.

“It’s crazy how fast this whole thing went. I’m excited to get back, though.” The older girl nodded in agreement as she moved over to a mounted wall mirror to toss her own curls up.

“Missing them?” Hermione asked around an elastic between her lips as she manhandled her hair. She watched through the reflection as Ginny turned slightly melancholy.

The International Internship happened yearly, post Hogwarts, for any qualifying seventh years looking to go into the Ministry. However, considering the circumstances, McGonagall allowed returning “eighth” years to go as well, but as chaperones in the place of professors. Originally, Hermione had no plans to come on this trip. Upon graduating she was more than ready to dive into applications and join her friends in the working world. But Ginny _did_ want to come on the trip, and being Head Girl that year meant she was automatically accepted to go. Hermione found it a bit odd that Ginny was interested in going so suddenly, as she was already signed and scheduled for the Holyhead Harpies, and did not have any intentions to work for the Ministry. But she suspected Ginny was wanting a little time and fun for herself after such an emotionally difficult year. So when Mrs. Weasley said she’d only allow it if Hermione went as well, she didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Has it at least been fun?” she tried instead.

At that Ginny perked up. “Oh yes,” she said and propped her chin up with her hand. “And I’ve learned loads. Being able to see the inner workings has given me a whole new respect for Dad and Percy.”

“A shame you won’t be using your new insight working with them and instead be occupied with a much more exciting job traveling the world and flitting about on a broom,” Hermione japed.

“Such is the hardship of choosing one’s dreams. Next they’ll be interviewing me for magazines. What a shame,” Ginny replied without missing a beat and glanced up at Hermione, flipping to the next page with a flair. Both girls then burst into giggles as Hermione turned to snatch up her current read from her bedside table.

“I’m going down to read for a bit before lights out. Need anything?” Ginny shook her head, but looked nervous about something all of sudden, and Hermione was reminded of how she was more distracted than usual that day. It was quite the contrast to the mirth from just a few seconds ago. “You sure?”

“Yep! Just gonna relax and...” she gestured to the room vaguely and then to her person. Hermione felt a bit suspicious, but chalked it up to how the younger girl had admitted a moment ago to missing her family and probably needed some time for a good cry.

“Well, okay then,” she mumbled, but said goodnight regardless and moved out into the hallway. As she made her way down the stairs of the dormhouse, she could hear several different conversations floating about from the different rooms.

Thirteen seventh years had opted for the trip. A “good group” McGonagall had called them, with both that year’s Head Students in attendance. Malfoy and herself were the only redo students that came along, even though Theodore Nott had qualified as well, and she found herself wondering quite often over the last couple of weeks if Nott would’ve been more helpful as a chaperone had he come instead. No matter though. The whole trip was wrapping up and she wouldn’t have to endure awkward silences, or confused seventh years, or meetings with Ministry Officials where only she showed up again. It wouldn’t be long until she no longer had to do this strange new dance with Malfoy.

Reaching the bottom landing, she turned into the hallway that led to the drawing room, and when she stepped through the archway, found the boy himself already occupying it. She paused where she was, watching as he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace and obviously deep in thought about something. She was honestly surprised he wasn’t already up in his room fast asleep and inwardly groaned that he didn’t look like he planned to anytime soon. He hadn’t even changed out of his day clothes yet, still sporting a deep navy jumper over a dark oxford and tie.

She couldn’t help but feel miffed that he beat her there.

_So much for unwinding._

Resigning herself to finding another place to read, she about-faced, but before she could escape he caught sight of her.

“Ah, Granger. I was just about to come looking for you,” he said. She turned back around and crossed her arms over her book, jutting her chin out indignantly.

“Oh really? Was it to explain why you once again failed to do your portion of the duties?” she snarked, but he didn’t even acknowledge it.

“Tea?” he asked instead, and gestured to an already made tray on the little table between two rickety wingback chairs. She was immediately suspicious.

“What’s your game, Malfoy?” She got right to the punch, but went over to the tray regardless. Besides, she had intended to make herself a cuppa whether he was having one or not. This just happened to be convenient timing.

“No game. Just wanted to ask you your opinion on a specific matter,” he told her. She paused mid-stir and looked up at him.

“My opinion.”

“Yes. I’ve been reading this book, you see,” he held it up briefly as if she needed proof, “and I believe a translation is wrong. I was thinking about writing to the publisher, but I can’t decide between which runes to use to best fix it.”

Hermione glanced down at the place he was pointing to on the page. She had not seen this book before, and the translation was indeed botched, but when she tilted her head down to read the title between his fingers he skirted it sideways and squinted at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to see the title,” she responded but he merely clucked his tongue and reached out with his free hand, grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger to give her head a little shake.

“And allow you to have the information to beat me to the punch and owl the author yourself? I don’t think so.” He dropped his hand from her face and turned to sit in one of the chairs, but Hermione just stood there, completely stunned by his nonchalance. “Though, if you find a better translation than me, I might credit you in the letter, but for now, I just need your insight.”

Hermione wasn’t entirely sure if walking into this room had pulled her into some alternate reality or not. One where Draco Malfoy openly and willingly touched her, and didn’t seem to care or act like it was the most repulsive thing he’d done that day. She stared wide eyed as he gingerly picked up his tea and took a sip, throwing her a playful wink over the rim.

Now she was positive the room was some kind of doorway between worlds. She was going to have to alert the Department of Mysteries as soon as they got back to London.

“So…” she began awkwardly, slowly sinking down into the chair opposite him and trying to grasp at some sense of the normalcy again. “What is it exactly you’re wanting my opinion on?”

He set his cup back down and adjusted to point in the book again, scooting to the edge of his seat so she could see better. “It looks as if it is supposed to say, _‘Speak thine words in darkness, for thy are truth, but do not despair when the sun awakens, for thou art still honest.’_ However, the rune combination for ‘awakens’ translates more closely to ‘grow’.”

Hermione motioned for him to bring the text closer and he twisted the book around so that she could read right side up. “Yes, I believe it would be better if this one,” she tapped one of the runes, “was a _mannaz_ instead.” Draco yanked the book back around and looked it over. She took the moment to sip on her tea.

“But that would translate as ‘not asleep’ which is more of a phrase used when speaking of beings, not objects.”

“Yes, but in this instance, the sun is being acknowledged as a being or entity on its own, so it works,” she countered, but Draco only sighed and shook his head, disagreeing. “Well what would you put then?” she snapped.

“A _raido_ of course. Because the sun is still an object regardless of how it’s described so it doesn’t matter.” Hermione felt her eye twitch and set her her tea down, completely prepared to debate why he was wrong and should go with her fix.

“Well I can explain to you at length why that wouldn’t do,” she told him. He gave her a smirk and leaned back in his seat comfortably, making a show of settling in. He then gestured for her to continue.

As she began her lecture, she didn’t even notice his knowing smirk grow.

**.oOo.**

“And that is why you still must consider the implication that inanimate objects should still have the right to advanced runes translations.”

“But why go through all the trouble to make the sentence extra hard when the simple combination is still correct?”

“Because of the literacy aspect. Just because it’s runes doesn’t mean the author wasn’t trying to convey something artistic.”

“I see your point, Granger, I really do, but it just doesn’t make sense. Runes is a bare minimum language. It’s only meant to get the point across, and the artistic interpretation is left up to the reader.” Granger tossed her head back and groaned dramatically, obviously about to go on another tirade about the subject. Draco couldn’t hide the grin at her displeasure. This had been almost too easy.

They had been back and forth on the topic for well over an hour or two now and he had to admit, it wasn’t all that awful having an intellectual discussion with the swot. Runes interested him dearly, almost as much as potions did, and he was impressed she was able to grasp so much of it over the years when she had never seen a rune before coming to Hogwarts. It was enlightening, to say the least. She had always had this know-it-all, smarter than everyone tone whenever he heard her lecturing her friends or speaking up in class. But throughout this whole discussion, she didn’t come off as so. It was a bit unnerving in a way and not at all what he was used to when it came to interacting with her.

“Oh Merlin, is it really that late!” she blurted. Draco’s musings were interrupted by her jumping from her seat and nearly darting out of the room. He frowned as she left. A quick glance at the clock in the corner told him this hadn’t been a long enough distraction. _Shite._

“What’s the matter?” he called as he followed after her. She was already halfway to the second floor when she turned and looked down at him.

“We forgot to do check-ins!” she informed him, looking as if she were about to burst from the shame. He had to fight to not roll his eyes. “It’s nearly an hour past lights out and we didn’t check in with anyone. Ugh, and they’re all likely asleep already! I haven’t even done the lock up wards on the front door.”

This time he didn’t mask the eye roll. “Don’t freak, Granger. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But it’s irresponsible,” she hissed, completely worked up. Draco only shrugged, unbothered. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know about that because you’ve hardly been responsible this entire trip.”

Draco just continued on over her griping. “Well there’s not much to be done about it now. Might as well continue on with our discu-”

“No, I have to take care of this. If you want to keep babbling on about your runic issues, then help me for once and I’ll be done quicker.”

“This is literally one of the final nights in this forsaken place, I promise no one will notice. You even said yourself they’re all likely asleep, what do you want me to do? Wake them up for five seconds to tell me their names and that they are, in fact, tucked in for the night like good little Ministry minions?”

“Or you can put up the wards while I do it. Your choice.” She crossed her arms and cocked out her hip in that way she did when she thought she was being intimidating, and Draco copied the pose so she could see how ridiculous she looked. But also, he was stalling while he thought of a new plan. He needed her to give it up already and come back downstairs so he could get that meeting with Quincy’s father.

“Too late. Do the wards,” she ordered and spun to trot upstairs. Draco didn’t expect her to be so final about it so fast. As he stood there, he could hear her go up the second flight to the third floor and anxiety began to build at what she was about to find. Or, at least, who she _wasn’t_ going to find.

Maybe they chickened out. Maybe those stupid seventh years were bluffing or they passed out for the night after their sugar party before they could plan a sneak out. He had been watching the entryway all evening and never saw a soul leave so maybe-

Footsteps thudded above and when he looked up, he saw Granger nearly throw herself over the balustrade in a panic to look down at him.

“They’re gone!”

“Gone? Who’s gone?” he feigned.

“The girls. Their rooms are empty!” she told him in a rush as she flew back down to the second landing and he ascended the stairs to meet her halfway. “Check the boys’ rooms.”

“So bossy,” he muttered, but humoured her nonetheless. He turned towards the closest door to him and didn’t even knock, knowing he’d find no one inside. He made a show of poking his head into the dark room to look around and when he turned back to her shook it. Throwing away all pretense, she hurried to the next room and did the same. And then the next and the next, until she had checked all but his. He watched her as she became more frantic with each turn of a knob and was starting to get the feeling that Granger wasn’t particularly good at handling high amounts of stress.

“Don’t panic. Surely they must be here somewhere. Maybe they’re-”

“On the roof!” she blurted, and took off again up the stairs. Where in the world did this girl get this much stamina?

He followed her up this time, if only to keep her from jumping from the rooftop in her hysteria, and made it to the trap door right as she burst through it to come back in.

“Nothing,” she told him around trying to catch her breath. “They aren’t here!”

“Where could they have gone, then?” he asked her, personally curious how they even got out in the first place. The building didn’t allow for Apparating and they would’ve heard the Floo. When all this was said and done, he’d have to ask one of them.

“Hell if I know!” she snapped as she moved around him and stomped off. He kept up with her this time and followed her to her room with the Weaslette. She didn’t hesitate to throw the door open and sweep inside, and he lingered in the open doorway.

“Ginny,” she said as she approached the first bed in the room. She prodded at the lump there and then pulled back the covers to reveal a pile of pillows. Granger blinked twice and looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oldest trick in the book. I’m a little disappointed, she’s smarter than that,” he tsked, and then dodged to the side as Granger hurled one of the pillows at him.

Without missing a beat, she swept her jacket from her bed and threw it on, shoving past him into the hall.

“What are you doing,” he called after her as he chased her back down to the main floor. Oh, this wasn’t good.

“Going to find them.” This wasn’t good at all.

“Granger, think this through. We don’t know why or where-” She whipped around and shoved her finger right in his face. It had become obvious that her panic had morphed into a more determined anger.

“I don’t care. I promised Molly Weasley that I wouldn’t let her youngest child out of my sight on this trip and I intend to follow through on that. We are two days away from going home with no accidents or mishaps, no thanks to _you_ , and I not only lost Ginny, but the whole lot of seventh years as well in the span of three hours. I for one am not going to look those Ministry Officials in the eyes tomorrow morning and tell them I didn’t at least try to find them. So are you coming or not?”

She didn’t even let him answer before she flung the front door open and rushed out. Draco took a second to watch as she stomped down the front walkway and through the iron gate that kept the property unplottable. Exasperated and a little winded, he ran a hand down his face and cupped it over his mouth, contemplating what to do. If he left her to go out searching the streets, she’d likely find them in no time and his little bargain would be done for. But if he went with her and kept her occupied, maybe the seventh years would beat them back and be happily sleeping off their drunken stupors.

He glanced back at the “book” he’d dropped by the stairs, transfigured back into the daily paper he had been indulging in when all of this suddenly became his problem. Letting out a long sigh, he moved to chase after her and flicked his wand to throw up the wards as he left.

What a trip this was shaping up to be.


End file.
